


Keeping Up Appearances

by we_could_be_heroes



Category: The Knick (TV)
Genre: First Time, Hate Sex, M/M, TW: Canonically racist character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_could_be_heroes/pseuds/we_could_be_heroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He cared about appearances and wasn’t afraid to admit it. From early childhood, he was told what a good boy he was, how healthy and handsome and clever, clever above all, and that he would go far in life. Little did he know, he would eventually get pressed against the wall by the man who stole his promotion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Up Appearances

He cared about appearances and wasn’t afraid to admit it. From early childhood, he was told what a good boy he was, how healthy and handsome and clever, clever above all, and that he would go far in life. He accepted the statement and dedicated his existence to fulfilling this predetermined fate. He already  _was_  clever and handsome, after all, so all it took was a little initiative and a lot of hard work. When he started to show interest in science, his father secured a special room for him in the attic where he could study tomes on biology and medicine undisturbed. He applied himself and reaped success.

He finished his medical studies without any significant hindrances, went on to secure himself a reasonably good position as a surgeon and to complete the package, he proposed to a beautiful and wealthy woman with a sweet voice and a meek nature. He was slightly disappointed when his first born turned out to be a girl, but then again, it was reassuring to know Eleanor managed the birth easily, without any complications, and thus proved herself more than able to bear more children in the future. He enjoyed the consistency of living according to an outlined plan and it brought him satisfaction to see himself eventually achieve every goal he had set for himself.

What was happening now was, of course, an outlying occurrence. A misfired shot of fate, a freak accident. It didn’t fit his life at all; in fact, it was laughably contrary to everything he stood for. He would forget it, never mention it, exclude the memory from the official report on his life.

“God,” Everett whispered, feeling the cold tiles that lined the walls of the pathology room beneath his fingers. “ _God._ ” He would have leaned his forehead against them too, but the last coherent dregs of his brain told him that that way, he could get a bruise which would be fairly difficult to explain.

The steady, controlled force with which Edwards rammed his arse made his body rock and shudder. There was also the slight displeasure of the burning, stretching sensation, but almost immediately upon being registered, the pain dissipated into tingles of pleasure that ran up and down his body, making his knees week and his torso sweat.

Just that morning he had stood in front of the mirror fixing his tie so it lay in the center of his starched collar, making sure all the buttons of his waistcoat were done up in the right order and brushing off some loose hairs from his dark jacket, but now he longed to be naked, to tear off the restraining attire and yes, to feel the heat and power of the man behind him more closely.

He was disgusted by this base desire, but that did little to suppress it – if anything, it made it all the more palpable, overwhelmingly real. Edwards grunted, digging his fingers into Everett’s arm and Everett realized he was probably getting close to release. He felt an instinctive pang of regret at the prospect of the emptiness; never in his life had he been joined with anyone in quite as intimate a manner.

Added to the mixture of pain and pleasure of being fucked for the first time was the uncomfortable feeling of his own cock being painfully hard, ready to perform, but unattended to. Edwards had given it a couple of strokes initially, but then withdrew his hand and focused on his personal gratification instead. Everett wanted to touch it himself, to give it a few long pulls as he was used to do when he gave in to the temptation, but he forbade himself that, thinking the action would be a sure sign of defeat. In the twisted logic of the moment, he still perceived masturbation as more demeaning than the fact that he was being pounded by a Negro man, like a street whore.

Then Edwards drew a long breath, sighed and pulled out and just like that, the minutes which Everett wished never happened, but lasted forever, were over. He glanced behind him and from the corner of his eye he saw Edwards come into a towel and wipe himself clean. Everett finally allowed himself the reprieve of laying his forehead on the tiles, cooling his flushed face. As Edwards finished buttoning himself and straightening up his clothes, Everett remained standing there with his trousers and underwear still down to his ankles, his cock still out and still very hard. Not exactly the kind of appearance he usually aimed for, but he was not quite ready to put an end to the situation.

Edwards stepped closer and did the one thing Everett cared about in the world: he wrapped his lithe fingers around his cock and pressed it, slightly, teasingly.

“Do it,” Everett said.

“I will if you ask nicely.”

“Do it,  _please._ ” Everett leaned back from the wall to give Edwards more space. His hair falling into his eyes, he glanced back at him again and for the first time since Edwards had confronted him in the morgue, their eyes met. Only for a second, though, and then Everett looked away.

“I think you can ask more nicely than that,” Edwards said, now stroking Everett’s cock, pulling on the foreskin, as Everett gritted his teeth. A few moments passed and he didn’t say anything.

“You know what?” Edwards said, his breath hot on Everett’s ear. “Maybe next time.”

And he walked past the pig cadaver and out of the room, mercifully closing the door behind him. Everett remained in the same spot for a while longer and then pulled his trousers back up, tucking himself in and leaving his cock to press stiffly against the fabric until the arousal abated. Though there was no one to keep appearances up for, after all that happened, he could not have possibly allowed himself to sin by self-pleasure as well. He looked down on men who lacked self-control and caught themselves in the pernicious trap of constantly servicing themselves. He composed himself, staring absently at the porcine heart.

He did not yet know then that his determination would only last several hours and he  _would_  give in, eventually, under the covers and in the dead of night next to his sleeping wife. He would think about his encounter with Edwards while he did it, about the force of his cock and the self-assured strength with which he was taken by him, about the unexpected pleasure that ran all the way into the tips of his fingers and toes, and once again, Everett promised himself that would be the very last time he ever acknowledged it even happened. Once again, though, he would be wrong.


End file.
